


Goddamn Gift

by Loloorenn



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based off of a Pinterest prompt I can't find now written for a friend, Couch Cuddles, Cute, Date Night, Domestic Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Dramatic Tony Stark, Established Relationship, Established Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Fluff, Ice Cream, Idiots in Love, Italy, M/M, Peter loves them back, Power Bottom Tony Stark, So does Steve, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers is done with this shit, Steve Rogers loves Tony, Steve Rogers texts like a teenager, Steve is comfortable with his sexuality, Sugar Daddy Tony Stark, This is really cute, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Tony Stark is a Goddamn Gift, Tony Stark's Ass, Tony is good, Tony loves Steve, boys bantering, just kidding, pizza dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loloorenn/pseuds/Loloorenn
Summary: “Y’know Mr. Stark, if you and a same sex friend are eating out and request one check and the waiter sets it in front of you, they’ve decided you’re the top.”The girl behind the counter giggles as Tony sputters, suddenly remembering his date on Monday night when the waiter had placed the cheque down in front of Steve, despite the fact that Tony is the known billionaire.-----“Did you know that people assume you’re the top?” His voice is almost accusatory, Steve doesn’t flinch. He simply places his finger down on the page to hold his place and looks up with squinty eyed confusion.By now, Steve has closed his book, giving his disgruntled partner his full attention. “You’re upset, because strangers assume you get dicked down by Captain America?”
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 511





	Goddamn Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Look this was a prompt I saw years ago when I wrote this that my friend wanted me to write and I've long since lost it. Also there's one line in here from another fic I read a long time ago around the same time I wrote this. If anyone knows who wrote it or recognizes it please let me know so I can give them credit lmao.

Peter usually swings into the lab with so much energy the entire tower seems to vibrate with it. He usually talks a mile a minute for hours on end about everything and nothing. Which is why, when Peter slinks into the lab with nothing more than a dull “Hey, Mr. Stark.” Tony immediately knows something needs to be done. 

“Do you feel like ice cream? I feel like ice cream.” Peter freezes in place, bag dangling from his fingers 

He shrugs in an awkward display of nonchalance, “uh, yeah, sure Mr. Stark.” His voice is squeaky and confused but Tony just flashes a grin and grabs a set of keys, leaving Peter to follow him dazedly out of the lab. 

Twenty minutes later there’s two bowls filled too high with ice cream, one bowl cookie dough fudge; the other, dark chocolate cherry. “Rough day?” Tony asks, sneaking a spoonful of Peter’s cookie dough. The younger boy squawks and steals a spoon of cherry in retaliation. It’s painfully domestic and Tony wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Yeah.” Peter admits. He stares down, stirring his ice cream into a cold soup. Tony’s not entirely sure whether or not to push for more information, if talking about it will make things better or worse for his kid. Thankfully, Peter saves him the trouble of figuring it out. “Finals are coming up and we got our review pages today. My history teacher is putting things on the exam we haven’t learned at all and I’m just a little stressed about it.” 

Lightbulb. “Yeah, that guy sucks.” Tony agrees, spooning more ice cream into his mouth. “Good thing you’ve got Mr. Walking History Textbook on speed dial.” Peter’s eyes go wide, his mouth falling open into a small ‘o’ shape.

“Do you think Captain Rogers would help me?” He’s so innocent, wide Bambi eyes full of hope and wonder. The hero worship still hasn’t really worn off and with Peter, Tony kinda hopes it won’t. He loves seeing the kid get excited over Steve. Speak of the devil, Tony smirks to himself pulling his phone out. 

From: Iced Cap: Will u be home 4 dinner? 

God Steve might be 100 years old, but he types like a thirteen year old girl. 

To: Iced Cap: yeah, took Pete for ice cream. See you soon. 

Steve sends back a heart and Tony rolls his eyes. He reassures Peter that, yes Steve would love to help him out and no, he wouldn’t be a burden, and after that, Peter seems to perk up again. The ice cream disappears far too fast, and Peter starts picking at Tony’s when he thinks the genius isn’t looking. 

When it comes time to pay, Tony heads to the counter and Peter, like a puppy, follows him. As the girl behind the counter prints the receipt, Peter says: “Y’know Mr. Stark, if you and a same sex friend are eating out and request one check and the waiter sets it in front of you, they’ve decided you’re the top.”

Tony chokes, nearly giving himself whiplash with how quickly he turns to face the boy. “What!?” Peter just blinks and tips his head. 

“Yeah we did a social experiment on it last week.” Peter looks mindlessly over the ice cream in the freezers, like he’s commented on the weather and not gay sex. The girl behind the counter giggles as Tony sputters, suddenly remembering his date on Monday night when the waiter had placed the cheque down in front of Steve, despite the fact that Tony is the known billionaire. 

Motherfucker. “You know what-“ Tony cuts himself off when he catches the mischief in Peter’s eyes. “That’s conjecturing! That’s what that is.” Tony lets himself trail off, grumbling about unfair stereotypes the whole way back out to the car. Peter quickly changes the subject, getting distracted and rambling on. 

Tony drops his keys in the bowl as he walks in the front door to his floor, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie. Steve doesn’t even look up from his book, one foot tucked under his body, the other resting on the floor. “How was ice cream?” He asks, turning the page. Tony huffs, tossing his suit jacket over the back of a lounge chair. 

“Did you know that people assume you’re the top?” His voice is almost accusatory, Steve doesn’t flinch. He simply places his finger down on the page to hold his place and looks up with squinty eyed confusion. 

He opens his mouth, shuts it, licks his lips and finally huffs in a mixture of exasperation and defeat. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Stunned, Tony starts tossing phrases a mile a minute. “Top and bottom, you know, pitching and catching, guy and girl, Dom or sub, kinda, in the right circumstance, though, not always the case…” He trails off before remembering his original point. “Like, who gives it, and who takes it.” 

“…right…” Steve nods slowly, like he understands “Tony-“ Tony’s head snaps up and he freezes in place, letting out a little ‘hm?’ “Is this, some sort of… sex thing?” 

Tony claps, pointing at Steve and lunging across the small space “Exactly! It’s a sex thing, a top is the one to-“ He makes obscene gestures that have Steve’s eyebrows raising into his hairline. “- and the bottom is the one that-“

“I got it Tony, thanks.” Tony stops his actions and, in a flash, flips back to being annoyed. 

By now, Steve has closed his book, giving his disgruntled partner his full attention. “You’re upset, because strangers assume you get dicked down by Captain America?” He can’t resist the shit eating smirk when Tony chokes on his own breath, watching him over dramatically flail and cough. 

“I’m not upse- They don’t have any proof! It’s an assumption!” Steve’s grinning in earnest now, Tony’s way of taking over a room, no matter how ridiculous he’s being, is one of Steve’s favourite parts about him. Eyes trailing down, Steve notes that those pants make his other favourite part of him look really good. “Mr. Rogers, I’m going to have to ask you to stop staring at my ass.” Tony drops his act to glare non-threateningly. 

Steve looks back up to his face, winking. “It’s a nice ass.” He shrugs, can’t be helped. Tony’s lips twitch and he points another accusing finger. 

“You’re distracting me on purpose! I expected better of you Mr. America.” He turns away, feigning disappointment and crossing to the floor to ceiling windows at the back of the room. 

Laughing, Steve throws his hands up. “What do you want me to say! Why does it matter if strangers assume, correctly might I add, that you’re a- a-“ He struggles for a second, “- a bottom!” Tony whips around, mouth agape and glaring with the force of a thousand angry men. 

“I am not-!” Steve arches an eyebrow “… They’re strangers! How does it not bother you!?” Tony switches tactics but squawks again at Steve’s nonchalant shrug.

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and pressing outwards. “People talk Honey, that’s what they do. What they say has no impact on who I am or what I do.” 

With a groan, Tony gives up the fight. No one gives pep talks quite like Captain America. Swooping back in a dramatic circle, Tony lets himself flop face first onto the couch. When he realizes he missed his target, he worms the rest of the way up the couch to rest his head on Steve’s lap. 

Steve lifts his hands to let his genius settle in and fondly smiles to himself as Tony flips around to stare at him. He hasn’t been sleeping enough, Steve notes, poorly concealed dark rings under his eyes and wrinkles that seem to get worse the less he sleeps. Faint smudges of black that could be motor oil, or grease, that he tried to wipe away speak to what the genius does while Steve sleeps. 

“I still think they’re stupid.” Petulantly pointed out, Tony crosses his arms defiantly, daring Steve to contradict him. 

Instead, Steve leans down, smoothing the hair back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Everyone is stupid compared to you, doll.” Tony rolls over, grumbling about unfair advantages, but Steve can feel him grinning against his thigh and smiles to himself, grabbing his book with one hand and threading the other through Tony’s hair. 

—————————————————————————

Monday nights are date nights, Tony’s way of combatting the Monday blues. He had texted Steve earlier saying: Pizza tonight, authentic Italian place, I’ll pick you up. And Steve had been excited, there’s nothing authentically anything in New York other than American and sometimes it can be exhausting. 

When Tony called Steve up to the hellecarrier landing at eight in the morning, Steve assumed it was Avengers business. When no one else was there he began to grow a little suspicious. When he saw the coordinates, Steve knew something was up. 

Turns out Tony does know a great little place. Brick oven, real cheese, homemade sauce. Cute little tables outside on stone slabbed roads. Serving pizza since 1783. In Italy. Their eight hour flight landed at 9pm Italy time, ‘just in time’ according to Tony, even though Steve is mostly certain he had a reservation and was paying the whole staff extra to stay late. 

Despite that, when the bill came it was inevitably placed in front of Steve, who bit back laughter at Tony’s face and not-so-quietly muttered ‘motherfucker.’ When Tony reaches for the bill, somewhat grumpily, Steve stops him. 

“Tonight’s on me Tones, you’ve done, so much.” His voice goes soft at the end, looking around at the yellow lamps illuminating cobblestone roads in awe. Tony huffs, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. 

He jerks his chin towards the kitchen hotly stating: “You just don’t want them thinking I can, how did you say, ‘dick you down’.” Steve startles and groans, his own inherent stubbornness taking over, telling him to shoot back. 

“You’re still on about that? Jesus Tony get over yourself! No one cares about what you do in bed!” Maybe too loud, if the staring and whispering us anything to go by. But Steve focuses on the slow, wry grin taking over his partner’s face. 

Tony pushes the bill more towards Steve and winks. “Just fucking with you Cap, have at it.” He gets up with flourish and strides towards the restrooms, leaving Steve with to chuckle to himself and pull out his card. He shakes his head fondly and pays, posing for a picture and signing an autograph for the starry eyed waitress they send over. 

“You’re something else Stark.” When Tony comes back he grins, leaning up to kiss Steve’s cheeks chastely.

Steve watches, once again, as the short brunette walks to the doors like he owns the place. “You asked for this-“ He gestures at himself cockily “quite explicitly if I remember correctly.” Steve is again, left to shoot guilty looks at the staff and chase Tony outside. 

“Yeah, I guess they only got it half right. You’re like a mostly-bottom” Steve agrees, wrapping an arm around Tony, who smirks, waving at a guy across the street who is staring and not at all subtly taking a photo. Steve also smile and waves, like he’s not talking about their sex life on the streets of Italy. 

Tony hops up the steps to where the quinjet, or a smaller version, is waiting. “It’s called a power bottom Steve, god you need to use the internet more.” He sounds exasperated but he’s grinning to much, a real smile, not the pap-grin he usually has, to really be upset. 

“Now why would I do that when I have you?” Steve watched in fond amusement as Tony checks their plane. While watching Tony do anything is a treat watching him work when he knows exactly what he’s doing is a goddamn gift. 

Tony turns and holds a hand out for Steve to take. “You’re lucky I love you.” Again, his words contradict his face, voice and actions. Steve takes his hand and lets himself get pulled lovingly onto the plane. 

“Yeah, I know.”


End file.
